Little Big Men
by ColoradoMFC
Summary: This is a silly little fantasy wherein Neal and Mozzie become children. As the story progresses  if it does  it will take a village to raise them.
1. Chapter 1

This is a sample of a little story I've been working on as part of a request from another site. I hope I'm forgiven for sharing a slightly revised version of it here too. It's a silly little fantasy about Neal and Mozzie 'magically' becoming younger. Many questions will go unanswered for several chapters, so please don't become frustrated.

FAIR WARNING: If I keep this story going, it will eventually contain spanking of little boys who were once men. I won't warn you again.

At the end please review and let me know if I should continue or not. It really does depend on your response.

***I claim no ownership in, around, on, (enter your own preposition here) White Collar***

XOXOXOXO

There were only flashes of memory.

*An empty lot*

*A dark warehouse*

*Something big hitting hard from behind*

*Wrists and ankles bound tightly*

*The flash of a full syringe in the dim light*

*Peter carrying him?*

Neal slowly came awake through the thick fog. He was in a huge bed. Something was beeping annoyingly above him. "Peter?" His voice sounded strange.

Comfortingly, the older man was right beside him, "You're okay, buddy. Can you open your eyes for me?" He gently brushed his fingertips across Neal's forehead pushing a stray hair out of the way.

Neal tried to focus on Peter's face. "Wh-what's going on?" He cleared his throat trying to make his voice sound normal again.

"Listen to me, kid. Something's happened, but you're going to be fine."

"Mozzie? Is he . . .?"

"He's right here, next to you. He'll be fine too." Peter moved aside to let Neal see his friend.

All he saw though was a little kid sleeping in the bed beside him. He scanned the room looking for Mozzie, his confused eyes finally returning to Peter's.

Wiping a hand over his face, Peter said, "I don't know how to tell you this, but you're, umm, well . . . here." He held up the mirror he had requested from the nursing staff knowing Neal and Mozzie would never believe what had happened to them without seeing it for themselves.

Neal's jaw dropped. For once in his life he had no idea what to say. After inspecting his face and as much of his body as he could see in the mirror, he pulled back the blankets and gazed down at his diminutive limbs. He turned his disbelieving gawk on Peter who simply gazed back. Slowly, he turned to stare at the kid in the next bed, "Mozzie?" He asked Peter.

The older man simply nodded his head.

XOXOXOXO

Peter patiently went through the same exercise with Mozzie when he awoke. When the nurses came to wheel the boys away for medical and psychological tests, Mozzie was not pleased.

"What? I don't think so! I did not give my consent for this!" To the adults in the room, the adult-sounding words coming out of this little boy's mouth seemed very odd.

Sternly, Peter said, "Mischa!" He smiled with satisfaction at the immediate reaction. Mozzie froze and turned wide, stunned eyes up to him. "That's right. I know your real name young man, and I expect you to behave for the doctors and nurses while you are here. Am I understood?"

Shaken by Peter's surprise attack, he simply nodded his assent. The nurses quickly escorted the subdued little boy away.

It was the large, sad eyes and quivering lower lip of the other little boy that made Peter stop in his tracks. Neal didn't say anything or complain, but it was clear he was terrified. Kneeling down in front of the tiny wheelchair, Peter asked, "What's the matter, buddy?"

Sniffling, he answered, "I'm sc-scared. Will you come with me?"

Gently, Peter asked, "What are you scared of?"

Neal opened his mouth to answer, but snapped it shut again and looked down at his lap, "Never mind." He was certain Peter would just tell him to cowboy up if he told him the truth.

Peter placed a hand on the boy's cheek, then slipped his fingers under his chin and gently pushed up, "Tell me what's frightening you, kiddo."

Neal sighed, and then admitted, "I don't like needles," and quickly added, "b-but it's okay. I'll be fine, Peter."

Peter considered the boy and his request only a moment before agreeing, "I'll be right beside you the entire time, okay?"

Neal's eyes lit up as he smiled. Peter looked at the nurse and asked, "Do you mind if I drive?" She gracefully stepped aside and allowed him to push the chair.

XOXOXOXO

Though the blood tests had not yet returned from the lab, Peter decided to get the boys out of the hospital. The psychological and initial physical tests indicated that Neal was about 5 and Mozzie about 7. They were both healthy and retained their memories and knowledge, but emotionally they were more likely to react like their new ages. Considering the implications of this, Peter wanted to get them into more familiar surroundings before they started acting up.

Besides, it was getting late and Peter still needed to get a few things cleared up.

The boys found themselves sitting on Peter's living room couch while the older man paced the floor, hands on his hips.

Hovering over the two little boys, Peter demanded, "How exactly did you two get yourselves into this mess?"

Sheepishly, they looked at each other before popping out of their seats and simultaneously launching into an explanation.

"It wasn't our fault!"

"We're the victims!"

"It was just research! Really!"

"We were just trying to help!"

They were cut off by Peter's frustrated, but very familiar, flip of the hand telling them to stop.

The older man gazed down at the two innocent-looking faces. Neal's impossibly engaging eyes in the body of a 5-year-old made Peter want to protect him all the more. Mozzie, at the age of 7, and with a shaggy mop of dark hair, was nearly as disarming. Renewing his resolve to get to the bottom of this, Peter said, "One at a time. Neal, go."

"Well, Peter, we – we – uh – that is, Mozzie and I, umm." He looked up to see Peter roll his eyes. Realizing he was giving away far more uncertainty than he was comfortable with, Neal cleared his throat, stood a little straighter and started again, "Mozzie and I were going to find out about a new process that makes paper that's utterly indistinguishable from the paper used to make dollar bills, but it was a set up."

Flatly, Peter restated, "So, you two were going to learn how to make paper that would enable you to print money."

"Not us," Mozzie quickly interjected, "I-I thought Neal could use the information to help you."

Peter was more skeptical now than ever, "Uh-huh. Sure you did."

Mozzie nervously looked sideways at Neal, and then tried to maintain eye contact with Peter. When he realized 'The Suit' could see right through him, he jammed his hands in his pockets and dropped his eyes to the floor.

Giving his friend a hard look, Neal jumped in to smooth things over, "It doesn't matter why we were going because it wasn't what we thought anyway. Peter, we were ambushed! Why aren't we out there looking for this guy? We need to find a cure!"

"First of all, you two aren't going anywhere looking like that. Second, we're still waiting on the report from the doctor. And third, we don't have any leads yet. Dianna and Jones are collecting any evidence they can find in the warehouse where we found you two. Until I hear from them, we won't be able to do anything more."

Elizabeth walking through the door forestalled any further argument from the boys. Peter had called to fill her in, and though she had been shocked at the time, her motherly instincts kicked in before she had even hung up the phone. She dropped her shopping bags in the foyer and approached the boys, "Look at you two." Kneeling in front of them she simultaneously hugged them both and gave her husband a reproachful look, "Still in hospital scrubs? Peter! Come help me with the bags, boys. I have a few things for you."

Having predicted Peter's inability to consider the boys' basic needs, Elizabeth had gone shopping in a grand fashion. While Peter looked on, she and the boys pulled item after item out of the bags. There were socks, underwear, shoes, all kinds of clothing, pajamas, slippers, a couple of teddy bears and soft cotton sheets.

Mozzie regarded the stuffed animals with distaste. He could hardly believe Elizabeth would buy these. They were adults after all. Neal, however, eagerly hugged his teddy, and then ran to Elizabeth, wrapped his arms around her neck and hugged her tightly, "Thank you, Elizabeth! I love it!" He completely missed Mozzie's eye roll.

It was the last item out of the bag that caught Peter's attention. They were clearly too tiny for the already small guest bed, "What're those for?"

As though this were the most natural thing in the world, Elizabeth answered, "For the beds I ordered." Catching the incredulous look Peter flashed her, she finished in her most exasperated tone, "You don't expect them to sleep together in that tiny bed, do you? Don't worry, Peter. I rented them, and you'll be able to expense them at work anyway." Quickly changing the subject, she turned to the boys, "Are you two hungry?" As they had not eaten since the Change, they were famished. Taking in their energetic nods, Elizabeth ordered, "Okay then, you three take these things up to the guest room. Peter will help you take that old bed apart and out to the garage. The new beds should be here soon. I'll go get dinner started."

Peter knew there was no changing El's mind at this point. They had never had children, and now was her chance to be a mommy. He re-loaded the bags and handed the two smallest to the boys. Leading the way upstairs, he lugged the rest of the bags himself.

Once inside the small guest room, he put the bags to one side, opened a couple of dresser drawers, emptied out the few contents, then turned back to the waiting boys, "Well, start putting your things away. I'll get this bed taken apart."

As soon as Peter's back was turned, the boys looked at each other and shrugged. Peter had no sooner pulled the sheets off when Mozzie crowed, "We're done!"

Incredulous, the older man turned. What he found made him chuckle. Mozzie stood beside the dresser, arms crossed, with an extremely pleased smile on his face. Neal sat on the floor cuddling with his teddy. The dresser drawers were hanging open, spilling over with unfolded clothing. "Good job, boys!" They smiled brightly. "But I don't know how pleased El's going to be with not being able to close the drawers." They looked back at what they had done and quickly lost their smiles. "Why don't you two straighten that up a bit before we show her?"

Mozzie obediently went back to work trying to make it look a bit neater. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to make 'Mrs. Suit' angry with him.

Running the old bed clothes down to the laundry and picking up the tools he would need to disassemble the bed, Peter missed the fact that Neal was still sitting on the floor having a quiet chat with his teddy. As he climbed the stairs back to the top floor he could hear the angry scuffle long before he arrived. Taking the last set of stairs two at a time, he dashed back into the bedroom.

Though physiologically younger, Neal was still comparable in size to Mozzie. They were locked together, rolling around more than hitting or kicking.

Mozzie yelled, "You have to help too!"

"I already did!" Came from Neal.

"No you didn't! I did it all!"

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

Mozzie was on top now pinning Neal beneath him. Peter stepped in just as Neal attempted to bite Mozzie's arm, "That's enough!" He dragged Mozzie off of Neal and set him on the floor. Then, he picked Neal up and brushed both boys off. "What's going on here?" He demanded.

Pointing accusatorily at Neal, Mozzie started, "He's not helping me fix the dresser!"

"Am too!" Neal insisted.

"Nu-uh. All you did was play with that stupid teddy bear." He petulantly kicked the toy into the corner just to prove his point.

Neal erupted, "Stop it!" Before Peter could stop him, he kicked Mozzie in the shin and ran to retrieve his new stuffed friend.

Mozzie's cry started off as a whimper, but as he thought about the unfairness of it all, he started to bawl.

Peter watched this spiral out of control with growing panic. Picking Mozzie up, he sat on the bed, put the boy on his lap and ordered, "Neal. Come here." Waiting for the younger boy to approach, he soothed, "You're okay, Mozzie. Calm down kiddo. Neal! I said, come here now, young man." The little boy was looming just out of Peter's reach tightly hugging the bear to his chest. Peter could see that he felt badly for hurting Mozzie, so he simply helped things along. Drawing Neal in beside him, he asked, "Is there something you want to say to Mozzie?"

Resting his chin on the teddy's head, he sincerely apologized, "I'm sorry I kicked you, Mozz."

Mozzie sniffled and wiped at the tears on his face, but said nothing.

"Anything else, Neal?" Peter prodded.

Tearing his eyes away from the growing welt he'd given his friend, he looked up at Peter. Thinking for a moment, he figured out what Peter was fishing for, "I-I'll help you put the clothes away – if you want."

Mozzie slowly nodded his head, broke into a grin, hopped off Peter's lap, and the two boys went back to work straightening the dresser drawers. Peter shook his head in disbelief. The fight was over just like that, as if nothing had even happened. He wished adults could settle their differences so easily.

XOXOXOXO

Thank you for reading! Please, let me know what you think, and if I should keep it going or not.


	2. Chapter 2

Wow! What incredible support! Thank you all so much for your responses to the first chapter! Not one person said I should stop writing, so without further delay, here is chapter 2.

***I claim no ownership in, around, on, (enter your own preposition here) White Collar***

XOXOXOXO

As soon as Peter had the bed pulled apart and the boys into new clothes, dinner was ready. All three marched down to the dining room to find the table laid out with spaghetti, green beans and garlic bread. Peter and Elizabeth helped the boys onto the two chairs on which she had placed phonebooks and pillows. Pushing the boys in close to the table, the adults took their seats at each end.

The boys were starving and dug into the spaghetti immediately. Neal had some trouble spinning his fork to pick up the long noodles, but he kept at it until he got some into his mouth. The bread was disappearing quickly as well. Eventually, Neal noticed his glass of milk. He glanced down the table at Peter's glass of wine, and then the other direction at Elizabeth's. He knew why he hadn't been served any, but he didn't have to like it. "Elizabeth, can I have just a little –"

"No, you may not." It was Peter who both anticipated the question and put his foot down, "You may have all the memories of being an adult, but you are still a little boy, Neal."

"But—"

Peter gave him a definitive eyebrow raise combined with a 'stop-now-or-else' finger point. Neal pouted, but he was smart enough not to say anything else. He sulkily pushed the green beans around on his plate without taking a bite.

When the doorbell rang, Peter looked down the table at his wife. Her face lit up as she realized, "It must be the beds. Peter, show them where to set them up please."

He did as Elizabeth asked and then returned to finish his dinner, "They said they'd be done in about 20 minutes."

Mozzie moved to serve himself some more spaghetti when Elizabeth slid the bowl out of his reach. Firmly, she told the boys, "both of you need to eat those vegetables."

Neal was already pouty and the late hour did nothing to improve his mood, "I don't want any." He whined. Mozzie didn't want any either, but if Neal got out of it so would he. He sat quietly, silently cheering his friend on.

"Neal," Peter warned, "behave yourself and eat those green beans."

"I don't want them." The whine was getting worse.

Trying to diffuse the escalating situation, Elizabeth suggested, "Boys, just take two bites, and then you can have dessert."

Mozzie thought that sounded like a pretty good deal, "What's for dessert?"

Smiling at the older boy, Elizabeth answered, "strawberry shortcake."

Mozzie immediately shoved the two bites into his mouth. He barely chewed before he swallowed them. Then he turned to Elizabeth and gave her a big, hopeful smile.

Elizabeth giggled at the show. Even Peter chuckled a bit.

Peter turned to Neal who was sitting back in his chair, arms folded tightly over his chest, "Your turn kiddo. Just two bites."

"No!" Seeing Peter's raised eyebrows, the little boy's bravado faltered some, but he held his ground, "I told you, I don't want them."

"No dessert for you then." Peter said resignedly, "More for us."

"I don't care about the stupid dessert," he placed the bottom of his foot against the edge of the table and was about to push away, when –

"Take that foot off the table this instant, young man." Peter sounded quite serious, but Neal just couldn't help himself.

Not entirely sure why he did it, the little boy pushed just hard enough to make everything rock slightly. It was enough to make his untouched milk slosh out of the glass and onto the tablecloth. Instantly, he was sorry he had done it.

"Neal! What was that about?" He had expected Peter to yell, but this was Elizabeth, and she was angry.

Dropping his foot, he nervously looked from one adult to the other, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean too."

Mozzie sunk down in his chair, afraid for his friend.

Now Peter was on his feet and lifting the little boy out of his seat. Before Neal knew what was happening, Peter held him over his hip and laid four firm smacks on the seat of his pants. It wasn't enough to hurt him, but it certainly got his attention. Despite this, as soon as Peter stood the little boy on his feet, Neal began to wail, "You hit me!" He pathetically rubbed his backside with his hands as fat tears rolled down his cheeks.

Peter knelt down in front of him and patiently explained, "No. What I did was spank you. That's what happens to naughty little boys who don't do as they're told." He waited until the crying reduced to sniffles before continuing, "I spanked you because I asked you to take your foot off the table and you didn't. Now I want you to apologize."

Neal sniffled out a sad, "I'm sorry, Peter."

Hugging the little boy, he comforted, "Okay, buddy. I forgive you. Now, what do you say about taking another stab at a couple of bites of green beans?"

Releasing himself from the hug, he lifted big, apologetic eyes up to Peter's face and with his bottom lip still stuck out, he nodded his assent.

Peter lifted him back up to his seat and watched as Neal quickly ate two individual green beans. Well, it was a start anyway, Peter thought.

Elizabeth served up the dessert, and happily watched as her three guys devoured it.

At 8:30 the delivery men trotted down the stairs, bid the family goodbye and were on their way. The boys, Neal in particular, were having trouble even keeping their eyes open. It had been a long and busy day for them. Taking note of this, Elizabeth decided the dinner dishes could wait for an hour or so. She did, however, retrieve a wet wash cloth to clean the boys' hands and faces first. Both had managed to get spaghetti sauce everywhere. If she hadn't been watching them eat, she would've sworn they had eaten with their bare hands. As she wiped off the last of the mess, she asked, "How would you two like to see your new beds?"

Mozzie was excited to see them. It was all he could do to stay in his seat and not run up right now. Neal tried to be excited, but he was just too sleepy.

Peter, noticing this, decided to carry Neal up. "Looks like someone is ready for bed already."

As he was lifted into Peter's arms, Neal weakly protested, "I'm not sleepy," but the big yawn gave him away. He snuggled into Peter's neck and watched with one eye as Mozzie jumped to his feet and looked expectantly at Elizabeth.

She laughed, "Go on Mozzie. Lead the way." They all followed as he dashed upstairs.

Mozzie pulled up short upon entering the bedroom. The others entered shortly after to find the little boy, mouth agape, looking up at the amazing bunk beds. They were shaped to look like a pirate ship. There was a rope ladder to climb up to the second bunk, a moving ship's wheel sat above the lower bunk's head board, both bunks sported a brightly colored plastic parrot on the footboards, and a Jolly Roger flag even hung on the wall.

Running to the ladder, Mozzie exclaimed, "I get the top bunk!"

"Nu-uh!" Neal turned to Peter, "That's not fair! I wanted the top!"

Looking up at the older boy already perched on the top, he made his decision, "sorry kiddo, but you're too little to take the top bunk. Mozzie gets it."

Seeing Neal's eyes begin to tear up and his lower lip quiver, Elizabeth stepped in, "Peter's right, but I think you'll like the bottom bunk better anyway. Go take a closer look."

Peter put him down and nudged him in the right direction. Neal thought she might be trying to trick him, but went to look anyway. Upon closer inspection, he still didn't see what was so special about the bottom bunk. He turned around and gave the adults a 'so what?' shrug.

Elizabeth walked back to the door, "sit on the bed." He did. "Now look up." As he lifted his head, Elizabeth flipped off the lights.

"Cool!" Neal gasped.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Peter went to sit on the floor beside the little boy. Looking up, he was taken in by the galaxy of stars above. "El, this is amazing."

"What? What am I missing?" Mozzie demanded as he scrambled back down the ladder. When he saw the stars, he changed his mind about wanting the top bunk. "Ahh! No fair! I want this bunk!"

Elizabeth laughed, "Mozzie, we'll get you some stars for the upper bunk too, okay?"

He grinned up at her, "Thanks Mrs. Suit."

"Mozzie, I've never liked that name much, and I am certainly not going to let you call me that now. Why don't you call me Elizabeth like Neal does?"

Abashed, he answered, "yes Mrs.— errm – Elizabeth. Thank you for the beds and all this stuff. It was really nice of you." Shyly he approached her. He was surprised when she scooped him up in her arms and gave him a big hug.

"You're welcome, Mozzie." She planted a kiss on his cheek that the embarrassed little boy quickly wiped off.

Realizing his manners were lacking, Neal turned to Peter, "Thank you too, Peter. You didn't have to take us in, but you've been really great."

Ruffling the little boy's hair, Peter said, "We're going to get you two back to your old selves soon, but until we do, you are both more than welcome here. Now, let's get sheets and blankets on these beds so you two can get some sleep."

Neal still thought it was too early for bed, but he was exhausted and beyond fighting about it at the moment. Peter and Elizabeth put the sheets and blankets on the top bunk while the boys struggled with the bottom. When the adults completed their task, they helped finish the bottom bunk as well.

Riffling through the jumble of children's clothing, Peter eventually found pajamas for the boys. He tossed a pair to Elizabeth who handed them to Mozzie. He was perfectly capable of undressing and dressing himself. Conscious of their modesty, she went to retrieve their new toothbrushes from the packaging.

Neal was another problem. He thought he should be able to do everything his older friend could, but even getting the t-shirt he was wearing off over his head was a chore. Peter offered to help, but the little boy pushed his hands away each time, "I can do it, Peter."

Peter knew he could too, with enough time, but Neal was beyond exhausted and every task was even more difficult now. He let Neal struggle a bit longer before finally just grabbing the shirt and pulling it off.

Neal huffily regarded the older man, "I said I could do it, Peter."

"I heard you, but that shirt had you by the neck. I was afraid it might try to bite your head off. It was your safety I was concerned about." Getting a small begrudging smile from the little boy, he continued, "Now put your arms up and we'll get your pj's on."

"Are you arresting me now?"

Peter looked at the boy to see him fight to keep from smiling. As Peter's own smile creased his face, Neal couldn't help himself and started to giggle as he lifted his arms.

Peter slipped the shirt down over the boy's head and gave his sides a quick tickle. Neal erupted in giggles as Elizabeth returned.

With mock severity, she admonished, "Peter, stop winding the boys up before bed. Boys, go brush your teeth."

Still smiling, Peter answered, "Yes, El."

"Yes, Elizabeth," the boys said in unison as they headed for the bathroom.

Once they had clean teeth, Peter and Elizabeth tucked them into bed, gave them each a kiss on the forehead, and shut out the lights.

Elizabeth smiled as she helped Peter with the dishes. It made Peter's heart lighter to see her so happy.

XOXOXOXO

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter is in the works now.

I don't suppose I can expect the same kind of response to this chapter as I got with the first one, but it was certainly inspiring to hear from so many. Please consider leaving a note if you enjoyed this one too.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you, once again for the incredible support! I am so happy to hear that so many are enjoying this story! It's a lot of fun to write too.**

*****I claim no ownership in, around, on, (enter your own preposition here) White Collar*****

**XOXOXOXO**

"Moz? Mozzie." The little boy tossed a plastic ball up to the top bunk. Still getting no response, he sighed and decided he would have to climb the rope ladder to get to his friend. Laying his teddy bear back on his own bunk, he took hold and started scaling. Reaching the top he found Mozzie still sound asleep. Neal reached out and shook his friend, "Mozzie!" he whispered, "wake up!"

Finally stirring, the older boy moaned, "mmwhat? What? Are the pigs coming?"

"What? No! Moz, wake up." Neal insisted with an adamant whisper. "Come on, Moz. Get up and get dressed."

"What's going on, Neal?" Mozzie whined while rubbing his eyes. "What time is it?"

"I don't know, Moz, but we need to get this figured out. I don't want to be a kid anymore, do you?"

Mozzie hesitated a bit before answering, "No – no, of course not. What do you have planned?"

Conspiratorially, Neal said, "Remember, there was a second address at the bottom of the 'invitation' for the paper making process."

Neal watched as the light bulb turned on over Mozzie's head. "And you think if we follow it we might find out who did this." Neal grinned and nodded. Mozzie frowned, "But what if it's another trap?"

Exasperated, Neal rolled his eyes, "What more can they do to us, Moz?"

Mozzie could think of any number of things these mysterious mad scientists could probably do, but he knew nothing would deter his friend from his mission, so he shrugged his shoulders and reluctantly climbed out of bed.

Elizabeth had done a marvelous job of shopping for the boys. They were offered a limited number of little boy play clothes, and a great deal more preppy-boy style clothing. There were no suits to be found, which was fine with Mozzie, and Neal was happy to wear a pair of khaki slacks and a blue button down shirt. Mozzie pulled on his own khakis and a salmon polo shirt.

On stocking feet the boys tip-toed down the stairs hoping not to awaken the adults. Reaching the bottom landing, they both exhaled quietly and started slipping their shoes on.

They jumped at Elizabeth's sunny greeting, "Well, good morning boys! I was beginning to think you were going to sleep the day away; it's nearly 8:30 already. But I suppose after yesterday's adventures you were both exhausted." She smiled at the boys as they did their best to look as innocent as possible. Elizabeth felt the tension emanating from them, but she wasn't sure what to make of it just yet. They were up to something, so she decided to divert them before they could take whatever it was too far, "Peter's already gone to the office. I was about to start breakfast. Why don't you two come and help me?"

She watched as the boys looked at each other and then shrugged, clearly giving up their plans for now. They followed her into the kitchen and waited for their orders.

Elizabeth smiled down at them and shook her head, "You can't prepare food in those clothes, so why don't you two set the table for me?" She placed a small step ladder near the cupboard so they could reach what they needed, and kept up the light distracting banter while they worked, "I was thinking waffles. What do you two think?" Receiving an enthusiastic smile and nod from each boy, she continued on, "Make sure you use the place mats too. Be careful with those glasses, Neal. What would you two think about taking a trip to the Guggenheim with me this afternoon?"

Though both boys thought it would be fun, Neal in particular brightened. Within seconds though, Elizabeth saw a cloud pass over the boy's face, "What is it, Neal? Don't you want to go?"

"Of course I do, Elizabeth, it's just that – Peter . . . "

Catching on to the dilemma quickly, she reassured, "You leave Peter to me, Neal. I can understand why he wouldn't allow you to go to a museum without an FBI escort when you were an adult, but now? I'm sure everything will be fine."

Neal relaxed. If anyone could convince Peter Burke to go against his better judgment, it was his wife. The little boy flashed a charming smile, "Thanks, Elizabeth!" And he bound out of the kitchen to happily deposit the forks at each place setting.

X0X0X0X0

Mozzie had been trying to get Neal alone all morning. He could tell his friend was planning something, and he desperately wanted in on the deal. They were already in the cab on the way to the museum, and he still had not been able to find out what was going on.

Elizabeth, too, had noticed the younger boy's pensive mood. Something was definitely up, so in her typical efficient manner, she tackled whatever it was head-on, "Neal?" She waited for eye contact before continuing, "What's going on in that head of yours?" She caught the nervous glance from Mozzie and realized he knew something too.

Neal flashed Elizabeth his most disarming smile, "I'm just excited about the museum. I haven't been in ages."

Far from being convinced, Elizabeth's eyes narrowed, "Uh-huh." She waved a warning finger, "Any trouble from you at the museum – either of you – and we will leave immediately. Understood?"

Mozzie's eyes went wide as he nodded his head. Neal nodded his head too, and agreed, "Yes, Elizabeth. I promise. No trouble at the museum."

That was entirely too easy for Elizabeth's comfort, but there was nothing more she could do except trust them once the boys had agreed to her expectations.

XOXOXOXO

After grabbing a quick lunch at Café 3, the trio headed into the museum. They casually wandered from one exhibit to the next. They took their time and tried to one-up each other in their knowledge of the different artists. Neal won hands down, but Elizabeth had to remind him more than a few times that he was supposed to be a 5-year-old and should be careful not to blow his cover. When they reached the Thannhauser Collection, Elizabeth and Mozzie were both surprised when Neal adamantly refused to go in. To avoid a complete melt-down a perplexed Elizabeth agreed to move on though she really wanted to see it.

Elizabeth also made sure to keep both boys within reach at all times. She had to remind them to walk and to use their 'inside voices' a couple of times when they became particularly excited about certain pieces, but for the most part they were perfectly well-behaved little boys. When an elderly woman approached Elizabeth, crooning in admiration, "What well-mannered young gentlemen. You are raising them marvelously, my dear," the younger woman began to worry that they were standing out too much. She thanked the older woman and sidled up to her boys.

Making certain none of the other museum goers could hear her, she whispered, "I appreciate how good you two are being, but maybe you could try being a little more – I don't know – child-like?"

Thinking for a moment, Neal hit on an idea. "Well, we could go to one of the children's art classes for a while." Catching the look Elizabeth shot him, he reassured, "I promise not to paint above a kindergarten level. We'd look more like little kids if we did, and you could go see that boring Thannhauser Collection."

Elizabeth was skeptical, "Are you sure you want to spend time in a classroom?"

Though Mozzie was confused and didn't really want to be trapped with a bunch of snot-nosed ankle bitters doing arts and crafts, he could tell this was important to his friend. He jumped in to assist, "It would help us blend in."

"Yeah, and I wouldn't mind playing around with the paints." Seeing that Elizabeth was still uncertain he pleaded, "Please Elizabeth. It'll only be for an hour."

Though she felt slightly uneasy, the boys were making good arguments, and she really did want to see the Thannhauser, "Okay, but only for an hour." Receiving a serious nod from both boys, she guided them toward the drop-in art class. After leaving her cell phone number with the instructor, she knelt down to give her charges a stern warning, "You two are to stay in this room until I come to get you. No funny business."

Mozzie crossed his heart with one hand and crossed his fingers behind his back with the other. Neal agreed, "No funny business. We'll be right here when you get back."

She took in their innocent expressions and sighed as she turned to leave.

XOXOXOXO

As Elizabeth rounded the corner out of their sight, Mozzie turned to Neal. "What're you planning?" he adamantly whispered.

Throwing a glance toward the teacher, Neal quickly dragged his friend to one of the tables covered with pots of paint, brushes and paper. He shoved a paintbrush into Mozzie's hand, grabbed one for himself, and covertly explained his idea. "That second address is only three blocks from here. I can slip out, check the place out, and still be back in plenty of time to get a couple of paintings done."

Mozzie was concerned, "I don't know, Neal. It's risky. Maybe I should come with you."

"No, Moz." Neal was steadfast in his decision, "We can't both disappear. The teacher will have Elizabeth on the phone in minutes. You have to stay here and distract her." He knew being forced into human interaction was enough to make Mozzie quake in his loafers, but he would do it. He always did. "I promise Moz, I'll be back before you know it." With a reassuring pat on his friend's back and another glance at the teacher to make certain her back was turned, Neal glided out the door and was gone.

XOXOXOXO

Mozzie nervously brushed random strokes of color onto a sheet of paper. He concentrated on being invisible while he tried to decide how to be distracting should the need arise. Less than five minutes later though, the young attractive teacher cheerily approached the 7-year-old, "And what are we painting?" She asked in a high-pitched sing-song.

"_We're_ painting an abstract study in the style of Lippold." Mozzie flatly answered. He did not appreciate being patronized.

The stunned young teacher blinked a couple of times before stuttering out, "Richard Lippold?" At the little boy's curt nod, she responded with a smile, "He was a sculptor." She felt badly when the little boy's face fell and rushed in to make him feel better, "but this painting is a wonderful representation of his style." The teacher was relieved when the boy smiled brightly up at her.

Mozzie again became nervous as the teacher glanced at her clipboard. He hopefully peeked at the door Neal had disappeared through as she asked, "You're Mozzie, right? Where's your little brother?"

Brother? It suddenly occurred to Mozzie that Elizabeth had checked them in as her son's. If he wasn't so anxious, this thought would have made him smile. "H-he, errm, he went to the restroom."

Glancing at the closed door to the boy's bathroom, her brow creased, "He's been in there for a long time. Maybe I should go make sure everything is okay."

"No!" Flinching at his own raised voice, Mozzie softened his response, "I-I'll go check on him." At the teacher's nod, Mozzie stood to go just as he realized this would delay the inevitable only a few extra seconds. With no time to devise a better plan, he quickly flipped his hand out and "accidentally" knocked over a pot of green paint onto his new clothes. He had even surprised himself with his rash actions.

The teacher must have misread his shock for fear because she grabbed a rag and immediately started wiping at the blob of paint as she comforted, "It's okay, Mozzie. This paint washes right out. No one's going to be angry with you."

Picking up on the teacher's anxiety, Mozzie began to sniffle, "M-mom's going to yell at me. She told me not to get dirty. These are new pants." He was actually starting to work up some real tears.

Still dabbing at the little boy's clothes, the teacher was beginning to panic. One thing she could not handle was little kids crying. Once again she wondered what had led her to this profession. "Really Mozzie, you're going to be fine. Let's get to the sink and get some clean water on it." She had completely forgotten about finding Neal.

Mozzie kept up the whining and waterworks for the next several minutes as the teacher fretted over the quickly dissolving stain.

"What's going on here, Mozzie?"

The little boy froze at the sound of Elizabeth's voice. She was back early. Very early. His 'mom' started feeling uneasy about leaving the boys alone almost as soon as she had walked away. By the time she reached the Thannhauser, she knew in her gut that she needed to return.

The teacher, nervous that the now calmed little boy might begin crying again, explained, "He spilled a little paint, but it's hardly noticeable now."

Glaring at her 'son', Elizabeth waited for eye contact. Slowly, the little boy raised scared eyes up to her face and swallowed hard. "Where's Neal, Mozzie?"

Dropping his gaze to the floor, Mozzie shifted from foot to foot.

"Mozzie." The warning in Elizabeth's voice was palpable, "I will give you to the count of two to start talking, young man." Taking him by the arm, Elizabeth dragged Mozzie to the table, "One," and took a seat in one of the children's chairs, "Two." She pulled him in beside her and turned his face up to meet hers.

She would not wait any longer. Vaguely, Mozzie wondered what she would do if he refused to answer, but he couldn't disappoint Mrs. Suit . . . Elizabeth like that. Looking down at his tiny hands gently clenched in her worried ones, he let fly with what he knew, "Neal just went a couple of blocks away. H-he went to investigate the second address." At her frantic look of confusion, Mozzie clarified. He told her all about the paper-making invitation and the smaller, alternative address printed on it. He anxiously finished with, "It's not my fault. I told him not to go."

Reaffirming her grasp on the little boy's hand, she jogged out the front door without so much as a thank you to the befuddled art teacher. Outside the building, she turned to Mozzie, "Which way?" She demanded.

He timidly pointed to the east and immediately found himself being dragged in that direction.

Feeling like the worst mother in the world, Elizabeth pulled out her cell phone and filled Peter in on what had happened.

**XOXOXOXO**

**Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed. Please review if you have a second. Hearing from everyone is so very encouraging! **


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm feeling the love with this story! Thanks again for all the reviews! **

*****I claim no ownership in, around, on, (enter your own preposition here) White Collar*****

**XOXOXOXO**

"Honey, calm down." Peter tried to sooth his wife, "We found the invitation with that address in Neal's discarded clothes. Dianna and Jones checked it out this morning. It was completely clean; He's going to be fine. I'm on my way." He said as he quickly pocketed the two small envelopes he had received from F.B.I. Special Apparatus Division. "Promise me you won't come within a block of that place."

"Honey! What if something happens to him before you can get there?" She was nearly jogging to get to the address as fast as she could. Mozzie, clenching her hand, tried with all his might to keep up.

"I know, but I can't do my job if I'm worried about your safety. I'll be there in less than ten minutes. Please, El. For me?"

Elizabeth began to slow as she answered, "Okay, okay! Mozzie and I will wait for you on the corner, one block west. Please, just get my little boy safe."

"I will, El. I promise." Hanging up the phone and pulling his car out into traffic, he tersely muttered, "Safe, but in a lot of trouble!"

XOXOXOXO

Quietly popping the lock, Neal slipped inside the dark, empty building. His only light came from the grimy display windows. Startled by a naked manikin, he jumped back into the shadows for a moment. He let out the breath he was holding and shook his head at his own trepidation. "This must have been a clothing store," he thought to himself. Carefully, he crept up behind what would have been the checkout counter, hoping to find some kind of clue. It was empty.

He stole around the large, nearly empty room. There had to be something here. He looked through the few boxes scattered about the place. Other than a few scraps of packaging, he found nothing. Next he searched what would have been the back offices. Surely there was something here. But the offices were even cleaner than the rest of the building. Losing patience and realizing he was running short on time, he decided to check the old dressing rooms before heading back to the museum.

In frustration Neal entered the third and last dressing room, leaned against the back wall and tried to think of what he must have missed.

The soft squeak of a shoe on the store tile made him freeze. He listened for a moment trying to decide what to do. Clearly, the owner of the shoes was looking for something. Neal listened as the footfalls crept around the abandoned store. When he heard them enter the back offices behind him, he quietly but quickly made his way back onto the sales floor and headed for the door.

He was nearly out into the relative safety of the street when he heard the distinct cocking of a gun and an unfamiliar voice utter, "So, there you are, my young Caffrey. Where's your friend?"

Automatically, Neal turned to face this man. He didn't bother to answer the question; he simply glared at the attacker hoping he looked more confident and menacing than he felt.

Aggravatingly, the short round man gave a good-hearted laugh but continued leveling the gun at the boy. "What a brave little man we have here. I am Dr. Gield," he sneered, "and you are the subject of one of my most successful experiments. You and your friend Mozzie, that is. Where is he?" he asked again.

And again Neal ignored the question in favor of one of his own, "Why? Why did you do this?"

Slowly coming down on one knee, Dr. Gield motioned with the gun for the little boy to approach.

It was clear he would get no answers unless he obeyed. Cautiously, he took a couple of steps closer, but made sure to stay out of the man's reach.

Satisfied for now, the doctor explained, "Why not? It's the ultimate youth serum. You can't imagine the number of people who wish they could go back and re-live their youth in the hopes of living it better the second time." With a gratified smile, he continued, "This will make me a billionaire!"

Stunned by what he was hearing, Neal pleaded in his five-year-old way, "Is there a cure?" He was nearly to tears with what he was certain was the answer.

Another explosive laugh escaped the doctor, "Of course there is! It's called time." The sneer that crossed his face worked like the hypnotic sway of a cobra on the little boy. Dr. Gield took his opportunity and lunged at the boy.

Neal struggled as hard as he could against the surprisingly strong arms of his captor. When he began screaming for help, the man clamped a smothering hand over his mouth. Held tightly against the doctor's chest, he switched tactics by going completely limp and turning his brain on instead.

"Good boy." Keeping a tight hold on Neal, he crossed the room to sit on the dusty checkout counter, "Now listen to me. I did not give you the original injection, but since you are the first human subject this has been tried on, I must see this through to the end. Now don't worry, you will grow up eventually, but without regular boosters of the serum, you will age much faster than the average boy."

Feeling the boy tense and hearing a tiny whimper, the doctor soothed, "You'll be just fine. You and Mozzie will come to live with me in my lab where I can record your progress. You'll have the best of everything and will want for nothing. I will raise you as my own sons."

Neal was again beginning to panic. He forced himself not to struggle and tried to get his brain to work. Clenching his eyes tightly shut, he willed away the tears that threatened.

"Now, we need to get that booster into you. We'll worry about Mozzie later. He got a much larger dose of the original serum than you and should be fine without the booster for a while."

Neal could hear the insanity behind the carefully guarded words. He had to get out of there! Where the hell was Peter? Isn't this when he's supposed to come bursting through the door to save him? Vaguely, he realized the doctor was shifting his position. He found himself laying stomach down over one of his abductor's knees with his legs clamped tightly between the doctor's legs. His back was being pressed down by a heavy hand. He managed to remain calm until he realized the doctor was trying to pull down his khakis. "No!" He screamed as he renewed his fiercest struggling, "Stop! You can't do this!"

From above him he heard, "settle down now child. Just a tiny prick, and then we can go home."

He struggled harder. The doctor responded with a tighter hold that essentially stilled Neal's small body. He whimpered when he felt the cold alcohol swab cleaning a spot high up on his hip. He tried not to tense when he heard the cap pop off the needle. In desperation he cried out, "Peter! Help me!" There was no response from his constant protector, only the sharp pinch of the syringe plunging into his skin and the burn as the serum was injected. The deed was done. Losing all of his fight he gave into his tears and began to sob uncontrollably.

Dr. Gield replaced the boy's clothing and sat him upright in his lap. With gentle, fatherly strokes he rubbed Neal's back and cooed, "There, there. That wasn't so bad now was it? You're going to be just fine. Shh-shh-shh. We need to figure out how we're going to get Mozzie back into the folds of our little family."

This made Neal cry even harder. How could he protect his friend when he couldn't even keep himself out of trouble? "P-please, let me go." He sobbed, "I want to go home!"

"I told you," Dr. Gield's voice hardened, "You are home – with me."

Neal wanted to start crying again, but he bit down on his lip to make himself stop. Reduced to sniffles and the occasional hiccup, the little boy searched for some means of escape. This guy was obviously delusional. Maybe he could use that to his advantage. With large watery eye, he twisted on the doctor's lap to look up at the man's face, "Yes, sir. That's what I mean. I want to go home with you. Can we go now?" He was trying to gain his trust.

Dr. Gield's face softened at the request, "Of course my boy. We'll go home now and make a plan to get Mozzie. Will you help me with that?" He said it in the patronizing manner of a father talking to his simple child.

Neal felt a blaze of anger at being talked to in this fashion, but he schooled his face not to show it. "Yes, sir. I'll help you. C-can I get down now?"

His captor gave a sickening smile, but he lifted Neal off his lap and set him gently on the floor. While the man stood to straighten his own clothing, Neal slowly backed away.

Suddenly, a loud crash erupted behind him. Out of self-preservation the little boy threw himself behind a pillar and hit the floor, hard.

XOXOXOXO

Confident that his wife and Mozzie were a safe distance away, Peter led a small team of trained F.B.I. agents to the entrance of an old, abandoned store front. The door was cracked open. Peter decided a soft entry would be best – just in case.

The display windows were filthy, but still not a good cover if someone other than Neal was in there. He crouched down and moved in fast, stopping just outside the door. He listened carefully. A crying child. Neal! He had to force himself not to move in immediately. There was another voice. A man. Peter couldn't make out what he was saying over Neal's crying.

He motioned to the agents telling them to stay low and quiet, and to wait for his signal. Being as careful as possible, Peter inched his way inside. It broke his heart to hear Neal crying like that, but the man with him didn't seem to be inflicting any damage at the moment. Unfortunately, the man was holding the little boy close. Peter didn't trust him not to hurt Neal if he was startled. He searched the room trying to find a way to get them apart before he made any sudden moves.

It was Neal though who devised a method of escape. Peter watched from his dark corner as the man set Neal on the floor. The second the boy had backed away enough, Peter signaled to his men to move in. They crashed through the door as Peter leveled his weapon on the man. "F.B.I! Hands in the air!" He demanded, "Where I can see them!"

Peter waited only long enough for his agents to take this man into custody before he holstered his gun and ran to the shaking little boy behind the pillar.

Neal threw himself into Peter's arms and began sobbing uncontrollably.

Peter held his little boy tightly to his chest and comforted, "You're safe now, Buddy. You're safe." The relief was evident in his voice

**XOXOXOXO**

**Sorry this one was so short, but it felt like a good stopping place. Thank you for reading! Please keep the reviews (and ideas) coming; they really keep me writing!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thank you again for all the lovely reviews! Always wonderful to hear from so many.**

**So, a few of you have picked up on the fact that Mozzie's character in this story has been altered a bit from his normal mischievous self. I didn't start out the story with this in mind, but about the time I was writing ch. 3 the episode that delved into Mozzie's childhood aired. I was incredibly taken with his acknowledgement that an orphan's Holy Grail (I think that's what he called it) is a family. Perhaps this chapter with help clarify his motivations a bit.**

*****I claim no ownership in, around, on, (enter your own preposition here) White Collar*****

**XOXOXOXO**

Peter comforted Neal until he stopped shaking. Even then the little boy refused to release his grip around Peter's neck, so the FBI agent simply held him close as he questioned Dr. Gield. "What was in the syringes my agents found inside?"

He sneered and told Peter about the booster he had given the boy. Peter immediately contacted the physician working on this case. The doctor asked that the syringe be brought to him for further testing along with samples of both Neal and Mozzie's blood. He would want to examine both boys closer in the morning, but for now it was the blood he was interested in.

Peter called a medical technician to the scene to collect the samples, and then called Elizabeth to give her the all-clear. She rushed with Mozzie to Peter's side.

The look on El's face was a mixture of anger and relief when she saw that Neal was safe. She opted for relief as she went to the little boy, gathered him in her arms and kissed his tear-stained cheeks. "I was so worried about you!" She cried into his hair. A little irritation snuck into her voice as she continued, "Promise me you will never run off like that again!"

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth. I promise." His answer was muffled by her shoulder, "Please don't cry." He pleaded.

Before El could completely compose herself, the medical technician arrived. She was an efficient, if not a terribly compassionate, woman. Mozzie didn't even have time to think of protesting before she brusquely took him in hand, swabbed his arm with alcohol and filled several vials with his blood. Handing the boy to Peter, she then turned her attention on the younger boy.

Neal had watched the proceedings with wide, frightened eyes. When the technician reached out to take him, he clamped on to Elizabeth with arms and legs, "No! I don't want it! No more! Please Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth unconsciously turned her body to protect Neal from the technician, and asked, "What's the matter, Neal? She's just going to take a little blood. You've done this before." She looked helplessly up at her husband.

With Mozzie still at his side, Peter stepped in close, placed a hand on the frightened little boy's back and explained to his wife, "He was injected again." He jerked a thumb in the direction of Dr. Geild, and watched as Elizabeth's face registered her understanding of the situation. Mozzie understood too and moved in closer to Peter feeling a need for protection. Instinctively, Peter picked the boy up and then turned his attention on Neal, "How about if El holds you while your blood is drawn? Would that be okay?"

Sniffling, Neal slowly nodded his head. He wasn't sure he was okay with more needles, but having Elizabeth close helped him feel braver.

"That's my cowboy," Peter smiled approvingly.

Elizabeth walked them all over to the impatiently waiting technician. She hugged Neal close and whispered in his ear, "I know this is frightening, but you're being so brave. I'm proud of you, Neal." And by the time she was finished, so was the technician. Listening closely to Elizabeth's encouraging words, Neal had barely noticed the blood draw at all.

Dr. Geild was escorted away to an FBI holding cell. Peter ordered that no one was to interview him until he could be there. As the last of the agents and emergency workers departed, Peter led his little family to the car. Looking over both boys and deciding they were both calm enough, he sat them side-by-side on the hood of his Ford to face him.

Noting the familiar somber gaze that signaled an infamous Peter Lecture, Neal jumped in with a pre-emptive, "Peter, I know this looks really bad, but I had to –"

"To what, Neal?" Peter was angry and not about to listen to a 5-year-old try to minimize his part in this, "To get yourself captured and possibly kidnapped? When I think of what could have happened – What DID happen to you in there –" He broke off before he could say something too harsh. Neal was looking up at him with large, pity-me eyes and Mozzie simply stared straight ahead presumably not registering any emotion at all. Catching his wife's eye, Peter and Elizabeth exchanged an entire conversation without uttering a word. They needed to get the boys home now. "Come on boys," Peter said with a sigh as he lifted them off the hood of the car.

Elizabeth took Mozzie's hand and guided him to the back seat where a booster was waiting for him. He hesitated upon seeing the embarrassing contraption, but then sighed deeply and without any further fight allowed Elizabeth to buckle him in.

Worried about his subdued mood, Elizabeth took Mozzie's chin in her hand and gently turned his face up to look at her. His eyes were sad, but he said nothing. Elizabeth decided he was probably feeling appropriately guilty for his part of this hair-brained plan. She gave him a gentle chuck and a reassuring smile before closing the car door.

The ride was anything but comfortable. Mozzie and Neal sat silently in their booster seats. Neal thought it was strange that Mozzie just stared out the window at the passing buildings, but he had been sternly warned not to talk, so he tried whispering to his friend only to get a firm, "Neal" from Peter and another headshake. Frustrated, he pouted, but didn't try again.

Meanwhile, Peter and Elizabeth attempted to calm each other down with soothing strokes of each other's hands and arms. They needed to talk, alone.

Arriving home, the adults ushered the two little boys through the front door. Standing in the entryway, Neal and Mozzie looked up at them. Before Neal could start justifying his behavior again, Peter ordered, "You two wait in your room. El and I need to discuss how you are going to be punished."

Mozzie didn't hesitate. He slowly climbed the stairs without a second look back. Elizabeth noted this strange behavior with concern. Neal, however, stood his ground. Peter wasn't fooled by Neal's look of shock. He allowed the boy to get as far as, "Punished? Peter! You can't punish us. We're –"

A warning finger shot up in front of the little boy, accompanied by a, "No! You are not an adult. You are a child. And you will be punished like a child. Bedroom now, young man."

The little boy blinked up at his friend, and then decided to give up on this tactic. Maybe a good, old-fashioned tantrum would do the trick. "Fine!" He followed Mozzie upstairs with loud, clomping steps, entered the bedroom and slammed the door behind him.

"Neal!" Peter yelled. He waited only a moment before timid eyes peered out of the door, "Come here!" He ordered with a double fingered beckoning and a sharp point to the bottom step.

With a gulp, Neal cautiously did as instructed. Alighting on the bottom step, he looked up at Peter through his eyelashes.

Hands on his hips, Peter dangerously looked down at the little boy, "Try that again. A little more quietly this time."

Neal just barely kept himself from executing a petulant eye roll as he turned to comply. He made it all the way to the room as instructed. At the doorway he turned, stuck out his tongue at the adults waiting at the bottom of the steps, and then beat a hasty retreat behind the closed bedroom door when he saw Peter's eyebrows shoot up.

XOXOXOXO

Safely within the confines of the bedroom, Neal leaned against the closed door and allowed himself a sigh of relief. "That was close." No answer. "Moz?" Silence. He pushed away from the door and approached the bunk beds. The rope ladder was missing. No. It had been pulled up to the top bunk. Stepping back, Neal could just barely see his friend lying flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. "Moz? What's going on?" It was like he didn't even hear Neal, "Come on, Moz. What's wrong with you?"

"Leave me alone." Mozzie finally whined, "I'm mad at you."

Neal was genuinely shocked this time, "Mad at me? Why? What did I do? Is this because I left you alone at the museum?" He was getting angry now. Mozzie had the easy part in today's capers, "I was the one who was attacked!"

There was a thoughtful pause from the top bunk as Mozzie processed this. Eventually, he answered, "I don't care. I'm still mad at you. You left me there!" A little quieter, as if he didn't want to admit that it bothered him, he said, "a-and Peter and Elizabeth are mad at me now."

Neal's immediate reaction was to shrug it off, "So? Peter's always mad at me. He'll get over it."

"You don't understand anything, do you?" Mozzie fired back accusatorily. "While Peter was saving your ass, AGAIN, Elizabeth told me that she wondered why she had trusted us!" His voice was rising and he was talking faster. Neal thought he sounded more panicked than angry, "That she wouldn't be taking care of us anymore!" Mozzie abruptly broke off, wanting to say more but afraid of what he was really feeling.

It took Neal a moment to work it out, but finally it dawned on him what Mozzie was too afraid to admit out loud. He liked having parents. This was the first time he had ever experienced what it felt like to be cared for by two loving adults. Neal thought for a moment, and then silently crept out of the room and down the stairs. He needed to fix this for his friend if he could.

XOXOXOXO

"I know they need to be punished, but do you really think a spanking is necessary?" Elizabeth wasn't so sure.

"I do, Hun." Peter was quite certain. "What they did today was dangerous. Neal could have been seriously hurt. And we have to address the lying too. We can't protect them if they continue to lie to us, El."

"What if we just ground them for a week?" Elizabeth was truly dreading the punishment she knew was necessary.

"Listen, Hun," Understanding her anxiety, Peter gently offered, "I can take care of this myself if you like."

Sighing, Elizabeth knew she couldn't let her husband take all of the responsibility for what needed to be done. This was going to hurt Peter as much as it would her. "No, I should be there too." She wiped away a tear that threatened to betray her. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at this predicament they were in. If only she had kept a better eye on them, none of this would be necessary.

No! Elizabeth corrected herself. This was Neal and Mozzie. They would have found a way to get to that abandoned store even if she had put them on leashes. This realization made her more determined to make sure they were properly punished. She turned a resolute eye up to her husband and nodded her head. She was ready.

**XOXOXOXO**

**Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed! If you have a moment, I'd love to hear what you think. **


	6. Chapter 6

**Okay, okay! Here it is already! LOL! All of the reviews are really keeping me writing. Thank you!**

*****I claim no ownership in, around, on, (enter your own preposition here) White Collar*****

**XOXOXOXO**

A quiet creek from the floor boards outside the kitchen alerted Elizabeth and Peter that they were no longer alone. Together, they looked toward the door. Through the opaque glass they could see a tiny dark figure. The adults gave each other a knowing glance; Peter's a look of mild irritation, while Elizabeth's was more good-natured.

"Neal." Peter called warningly to the skulking creature outside, "Come in here, please."

The little boy slowly pushed the door open, peeked his head through and asked, "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"If this is about your punishment, it's already been decided." Peter answered what he thought was going to be the question.

"I know," Neal said quietly, giving away the fact that he had indeed been outside the door longer than the adults had realized. "Actually, it's about Mozzie, but we should talk about that punishment too."

"What about Mozzie, Neal?" Elizabeth asked with curiosity before her husband could send him back to his room.

To both she and Neal's surprise Peter stopped the little boy's explanation with a gentle, "Come here, kiddo." Peter had noticed Mozzie's strange behavior and was worried about him too. As Neal came closer to the adults, Peter picked him up and placed him on his lap, "Now tell us, what's going on with Mozzie?"

With a deep sigh, Neal spilled it all out in one breath, "He's angry with me for getting him in trouble. This really was all my idea. I'm the one who should be punished, not him. Not that I think we should be punished at all," he added quickly, "but if anyone has to be it shouldn't be Mozzie."

The adults smiled at each other knowing how difficult admitting his guilt was for Neal, and also aware that there was more to this story. They waited, but the boy seemed to feel he had told as much as he could. Neal simply looked expectantly from one adult to another with wide, innocent eyes.

"If that's all, Neal, you can go back to your room. We'll be up soon." Peter said definitively.

"But aren't you going to do something?" Neal was shocked by their uncaring attitude.

"About what, Sweetie?" Elizabeth was trying to pull more information out of the little boy by pretending naïveté.

"Mozzie's mad at me!" He spat out, "Make him not be mad at me!"

Elizabeth had to fight not to grin at this childish attitude, but Peter made a mental note to tell the doctor about this tomorrow. He wondered if the 'booster' Neal had been given hadn't actually regressed him a bit more.

"We can't do that, kiddo," Peter explained in a calm voice. "That's something you two are going to have to work out. And yes, you were the master-mind behind all of this, but Mozzie decided for himself to play along. You didn't make him do anything."

Neal twisted on the man's lap to look him fully in the eye, "But Peeettterrrr."

"Nope. You'll just have to tell him you're sorry and hope he accepts your apology," Peter firmly stated.

"Fine!" The little boy was not happy with the outcome of this particular meeting, and he dearly wanted to lash out at the unhelpful adults, "But that means Elizabeth has to apologize to him too!" He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and looked accusatorily at the shocked woman sitting in front of him.

"Me?" Elizabeth looked up at her bewildered husband, but regained her composure immediately realizing that perhaps Neal was about to reveal the information she had been fishing for. Curiously, she asked, "Neal? What do you know?"

He faltered a bit before answering realizing he had been tricked into revealing more than he'd intended. Almost at a whisper, he informed the linoleum at Elizabeth's feet, "M-Moz is afraid you're going to get rid of us. That y-you don't want to be responsible for us anymore." He looked up through his eyelashes at her hoping it wasn't true. Her look of horror told him he was safe.

"Oh, Peter!" Elizabeth clapped both hands over her open mouth as her eyes began to water.

Her husband offered her a supportive hand to grasp on to, "What is it, Hun?" Her reaction had alarmed him greatly.

Taking her husband's hand, she looked down at the little boy in his lap to find a pair of extremely concerned baby-blues staring back at her. She wiped away the tears with her spare hand and explained, "When we were waiting for you to rescue Neal, I was feeling like the worst mother ever for letting them out of my sight." She paused to take a deep breath and to blow her nose on the tissue her helpless-feeling husband offered, "I lost my cool when Mozzie kept trying to convince me we should get closer to the action. I said," A ragged breath escaped her as she was taken back to the awful memory of it, "– I said I never should have trusted them and that after this someone else would have to take care of them. Oh, Peter! I was so upset with myself, and I took it out on him!"

Peter set his little boy gently on the floor and stood up. Gathering his crying wife into his arms, he soothed, "Now, Honey. It'll be fine. He's heard a lot worse in his lifetime. You'll just sit down with him and explain what happened and that he will never be turned away as long as he needs to be here."

Realizing he had made Elizabeth cry with his outburst, the guilty little boy slowly backed out of the kitchen door unseen by the adults. Once on the other side of the door he ran through the dining room and the living room, then up the stairs and into the bedroom. He felt horrible for making her feel like that, "I did a really bad thing, Moz." He wanted to get it off his chest even if his best friend wasn't talking to him. Besides that intro would get his attention if nothing else would. But there was no answer from the top bunk. At least the rope ladder was back down. Neal climbed on unsteady 5-year-old legs up to Mozzie's bed, but he found no one there. From his vantage point he scanned the room looking for any signs of life. Nothing. No movement. No impatient tapping. No compulsive arranging of bedroom furniture. He climbed back down and walked to the bathroom. Peering inside, he found it empty as well. He systematically checked the rest of the floor, still finding nothing.

Stopping at the top of the stairs, he paused. Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. Maybe he hadn't looked everywhere yet.

Satchmo passed him on his way down the stairs. He stopped abruptly at the front door and sniffed. He looked up curiously at Neal and whined.

"What is it, boy?" Neal asked as he walked down the stairs. "What's wrong?"

The dog scratched at the door, something he never did for fear of being banned to the backyard.

Shoving his way past the dog, Neal reached for the door knob. He was just about out the door, when he heard an exceptionally stern Peter, "Where do you think you're going, young man?"

He spun around, startled, "Nowhere Peter."

"Come here!" Peter gave him the very serious two finger beckoning.

Not wishing to anger the man further, he hastened to comply, "Really Peter. I wasn't going anywhere! – OUCH!" He whined as two firm swats landed on the seat of his pants. He rubbed his butt with both hands.

Peter leaned down to be face-to-face with his little miscreant, "I expected to find you in your room. Would you care to explain what you're doing out of it?"

"Mozzie's gone!" Neal cried still rubbing at the sting, "I was going to look for him!" He was angry at being stopped from searching for his friend and angry about being spanked, mostly though he was tired and frustrated from this long day. He was sobbing inconsolably as Elizabeth picked him up and cuddled him to her chest.

"It's okay, baby. Peter will find him." Suddenly feeling more confident in her mothering ability but now concerned about having another lost boy on her hands, she gave a little nod to her worried husband. Peter gave his wife a reassuring squeeze on the elbow and ran out the door with Satchmo close on his heels. "Sh-sh-sh," she soothed as she bounced the little boy on her hip, "Peter and Satchmo will get him back here in no time." Crossing to the sofa, she sat and cuddled until the boy's tears ran out, but by then he was fast asleep. Not wanting to wake him, she decided to spend a little time soaking up the warmth and love emanating off the small body in her arms. Though worried about Mozzie, he had only been gone for maybe five minutes before they had discovered he was missing. She was fully confident in her husband's ability to find her other little boy, and her own ability to make things right again once he was home.

XOXOXOXO

Jogging to the sidewalk, Peter called out, "Mozzie!" He didn't really expect an answer. Peter realized the light was quickly fading to dusk. Finding the street-wise kid after dark would be a challenge. Peter considered calling 911 for a little help, but decided to try knocking on a few doors first.

Satchmo, usually obedient enough to follow at his master's heals, bolted ahead of Peter. He tried to call the dog back, but he didn't listen. When Peter stopped running after the dog, Satchmo stopped, looked back at his master and whined. "Come on boy. Come here." Another whine from the dog and an accompanying look in the opposite direction. "Satch! Come!" Peter was losing patience, but still the dog would not budge. This was completely unlike his dog. He wondered if his furry friend knew something he didn't. "What is it, boy? Do you know where Mozzie is?" He walked closer to the dog who took a few steps away down the street. Satchmo was definitely trying to tell him something. Peter followed a little faster until he was running again. Another block down the street and he was beginning to wonder about Satchmo's tracking ability. He wasn't a particularly smart dog. Maybe he was just trying to get Peter to play.

Peter was about to call the dog back again when Satchmo suddenly stopped, sniffed at an old rusty gate in front of a long abandoned house, jumped up with his front paws on the fence and barked twice. As Peter approached, the dog got down and whined in the direction of the house. "Is this the place, Satch?" He pushed the dilapidated gate open with an annoying creek. The dog tried to rush in, but Peter had him by the collar now. He let the dog into the yard, closed the gate, and ordered, "Sit!" The dog whined again, but sat. Moving cautiously forward, Peter warned the dog, "Stay." More whining, but he was obedient.

Peter climbed onto the rickety wooden porch careful to avoid any rotten slats. He tested the front door and found it locked. Luckily for him, the embedded window had been smashed out years ago. He reached through and unlocked the door from the inside. It now easily swung open to reveal the darkened and cobweb strewn front entry. Peter stepped inside. "Mozzie?" He called out, "Are you in here, young man?" No answer, but Peter heard a soft scraping sound coming from upstairs. Giving up trying to be silent on the neglected floorboards, Peter quickly climbed the stairs. He wished he had taken the time to grab a flashlight, but then remembered the flashlight app on his cell. Engaging the device, he finished his climb and calculated where he thought the sounds had been coming from.

The room he chose, with its sports-themed wallpaper, looked to be the empty bedroom of a young boy. The only bit of furniture in the room was a nearly gutted dresser. It had only one partial drawer still in its frame. A quick glance inside the closet proved it to be small and devoid of life, but that dresser was strangely placed at an angel in the corner of the room. Where the dresser legs had traced tracts in the dusty floor attested to the very recent movement of this bit of furniture. Beaming the soft glow from his phone into that corner, Peter waited a moment before rushing in. There was another soft scraping sound and Peter had no doubt about who was making it. He needed to be smart about this and remember that the man who was Mozzie was now going to react like a 7-year-old. He didn't want to frighten the boy any more than he already was.

"Mozzie?" He asked gently, "Would you like to come out now?" Peter waited only a few moments before he got his muffled answer.

"Not particularly."

"Don't you want to come home?" Peter used the word 'home' deliberately.

"No. I'm fine here, thanks."

Peter grinned at the politeness of it all. "You haven't had dinner yet. I'd bet you're starving by now." There was a long pause from the corner that told Peter everything he needed to know. "I was thinking we could order pizza tonight."

"Lactose." Mozzie reminded him.

Peter rolled his eyes, "Right. No cheese on your pizza."

Two eyes behind large round glasses tentatively peeked out, "Can I have anchovies?"

With a sincere smile, Peter answered, "Sure. Whatever you want. But you have to come out from there first."

Unsure, but willing to try where pizza was involved, the young boy pushed the empty dresser carcass away from the wall and stepped out. He kept his back pressed to the wall, protecting his butt, as he asked, "What about Elizabeth? She doesn't want to see me anymore."

Stepping carefully toward the boy so as to not frighten him, Peter knelt down and took both of Mozzie's shoulders gently in his hands, "Look at me. Elizabeth wants you and Neal now more than ever. We both found out what it feels like to lose you boys today, and believe me, we will never let that happen again."

The little boy looked up at Peter with hope and worry mingled, "Really?"

"Really, really!" Peter clarified.

Mozzie grinned, and Peter thought there was hope, but then the little boy dropped his eyes and bit his lip. Peter waited for the inevitable question, "Are you still going to punish us?"

"Mozzie, you boys gave El and me a couple of really good scares today. What do you think?"

"But if you punish us, we won't have to leave, right?"

Was this kid really still bargaining to get to stay? "Listen, Kiddo. You two are staying because El and I want you with us, and we hope you want to be with us. You're being punished because you were naughty. They are totally separate issues. No matter how much trouble you two get into, and this is not an invitation to experiment, we will still want you with us. Got it?"

Mozzie looked directly into Peter's eyes, perhaps for the first time ever, and nodded his head in understanding.

In relief Peter patted the boy's shoulder, heartily said, "Good boy," picked him up and trotted down the stairs and out the door with the boy in his arms and Satchmo wagging happily at his heals all the way home.

**XOXOXOXO**

**I know, I know. I stopped right at the good part. You know I always have to write a good angsty scene first. But maybe, just maybe if I get enough reviews, I'll publish again soon. Hee Hee! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, this is WAY shorter than I had hoped, but I promised an early update if I got enough reviews, and ya'll came through in a big, big way! Clearly the writer me is writing checks that the student me cannot cash. LOL! Hope you enjoy what I have so far!**

*****I claim no ownership in, around, on, (enter your own preposition here) White Collar*****

**XOXOXOXO**

Less than an hour after Peter had run out the door, he jubilantly returned with prize in hand. Without preamble, he threw the door open and loudly announced, "We're home!"

Satchmo danced and barked happily at his side.

Stepping into the living room, Peter finally noticed Elizabeth trying to shush them. It was too late. Neal had been awakened.

He sat up from his place against Elizabeth's chest and rubbed at his blurry eyes, "What's going on?" He asked thickly in a sleepy, little boy way.

"We're ordering pizza!" Mozzie exclaimed.

This was news to Elizabeth. She looked up at her husband who only shrugged. She smiled back at him. With all the activities of this day they had completely forgotten about making sure the little guys were fed.

"Really? Can I have extra cheese?" Neal asked feeling a bit refreshed after his nap.

Elizabeth smiled and said, "You can have whatever you want on your pizza." She couldn't help but give him a big hug. Looking up at Mozzie, still in Peter's arms, she said, "I'm so glad you're both back with us." Releasing Neal and setting him beside her on the sofa, she reached out to take Mozzie into her lap.

Peter handed him over and then took Neal's hand, "Come on, kiddo. Let's go order some pizzas." Neal hopped up happily. As Peter led him into the kitchen, he looked back at his wife who smiled at him gratefully. She was now free to have a heart-to-heart with Mozzie.

"Moz?" She waited until he looked up at her, "I said some really hurtful things to you today when I was upset."

Mozzie saw the tears well up in the woman's eyes, "It's okay, Elizabeth." Deep down he felt he probably deserved it.

"No, Mozzie, it's not okay. I lashed out at someone I love just because I was frustrated. I hurt you, and that is something I never wanted to do." She wiped away a stray tear. "I am very sorry, Mozzie. I want you to know that no matter how long you need to be here, no matter how long you need someone to take care of you, Peter and I will always be here for you. We love you boys, and there is nothing you two scoundrels can do to change that."

"You love us?" Mozzie was truly taken aback by this bit of news, "You and Peter?"

These questions made Elizabeth sad to think that Mozzie had grown up always suspect of any declaration of love, "Yes, Mozzie. We love you. Both of you. And we want to make sure that you always feel safe with us."

He needed some time to process this, so he changed the subject, "Well, I guess there was a reason you were frustrated," the little boy grudgingly conceded (without actually admitting anything), "but since you're acknowledging that this was your fault, does that mean we won't be punished?"

Elizabeth nearly laughed at his little con, "No, Mozzie, I'm afraid not. You and Neal pushed the boundaries today, and you know it." Mozzie guiltily dropped his eyes to his hands as Elizabeth continued, "Part of our job in helping you to feel safe is to set limits, and you two went far beyond those limits today. You need to face the consequences of your actions."

"But why?" It was nearly a whine, "We never had to before."

"Of course you did, Mozzie." She took his chin in her hand and guided him to look at her, "You were always alone. The one real friend you had was Neal, and did you ever feel like you could absolutely trust him? For fear of being caught you were constantly moving from one place to another, with no ties, no support and no family. These were all consequences." She waited as she watched the little boy process this information.

Peter walked in with Neal still holding his hand, "The pizzas are ordered and should arrive in about 45 minutes, so why don't we take care of today's issues so we can enjoy our dinner when it gets here?"

"Do we have to?" Neal whined.

"Yep." Was Peter's annoyingly simple answer.

"But I –"

He was cut off with a sharp, "No," from Peter.

Neal pointed at Mozzie, "But he –"

"Don't!" Came the pre-emptive reply.

"But –" Once again that warning finger flew up to the little boy's face, "Fine!" It was a frustrating game for Neal since he always lost, but he had to try. Peter actually enjoyed the game - since he always won.

"Good," Peter said. Crouching down to come to eye level with the little ones, he continued, "El and I are very disappointed in your behavior today. What you did was dangerous, and lying to El was unconscionable."

"But we didn't lie!" Neal cried out. "We just didn't tell anyone what we were doing!"

"Neal, you are a 5-year-old boy." He held up a hand stopping the little boy's protest, "You are now," he didn't mention that he suspected Neal was probably closer to being 3 or 4 after today's injection. "El and I are here to protect you, and we expect you to let us do our job."

Mozzie was incensed, "I don't need protection. I can take care of myself."

This was very probably true, but Elizabeth had to ask, "To what extent, Moz?" He looked up at her with questioning eyes, "I mean, you could probably find shelter and steal food, but how happy would you be?"

He dropped his eyes to the coffee table, defeated. His last defense was a pouty, "Still. I could." Elizabeth rubbed his back sympathetically.

"El, will you take care of Mozzie while I take Neal up to the bedroom?" Peter asked.

Elizabeth nodded with a resolute grimace. She was really not looking forward to this, but it was better to get it over with now than to delay the inevitable. They watched as Peter dragged a resistant Neal toward the stairs.

"Come on Peter. You don't have to do this. I won't do it again. I promise."

Peter stopped, turned back to look at his charge and almost seemed like he was about to give in. Neal flashed him a glorious smile when he thought he had won, only to be swept up into Peter's strong arms and carried, crying, "Noooo! Peeeterrrrr!" To his room.

Once they were alone, Elizabeth sternly asked, "Are there any questions before we take care of your behavior today, young man?"

Mozzie faltered. Normally, he would have much to say in the way of stalling, but this new tone of Elizabeth's entertained no dallying from him. He swallowed hard, and answered, "No, Ma'am. I fully understand why."

"Then let's get this over with." Standing Mozzie on his feet beside her, Elizabeth took his pants and underwear down as he removed his glasses and set them on the coffee table. She noted that his old glasses were entirely too big for his face now. Why hadn't she noticed this before? Tomorrow, they would have to do something about it.

Elizabeth picked him up and laid him across her knees. Raising her hand, she smacked it down hard across both cheeks. The little boy yelped, "Ouch! Elizabeth, that hurt!" Several more smacks followed without mercy. It was just starting to dawn on Mozzie just how serious she was about all of this.

She started to lecture as the spanking continued, "You let Neal go off by himself today, Mozzie. I don't expect you to be able to stop him when he gets an idea like that in his head, but I do expect you to let me or Peter know if he plans to do something that could potentially get him hurt – or worse. Keeping that information from us and covering up for him is tantamount to lying, young man."

"Yes, Ma'am! I'm sorrrry! I'll never do it again! Please, Elizabeth! I promissssssse!"

Elizabeth stopped after she had landed about sixteen spanks. She had painted his butt a light pink and decided this was enough for a first offense – at least the first under her care, she thought. Besides, Mozzie was crying pathetically into the couch cushion. She replaced his pants, lifted him up and held him to her chest.

He wrapped his arms around her neck and cried into her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Elizabeth."

Elizabeth rubbed his back and soothed, "It's all over now, kiddo. All is forgiven." She continued to rub his back as he began to calm to sniffles.

**XOXOXOXO**

**I'm sure the next chapter's contents will not surprise anyone now. Hee Hee! I'll try to have that up in a few days (ya know, once I write it).**

**Thanks for reading, and double thanks for reviewing!**


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